Twas the Night Before Midwinter
by KrisEleven
Summary: A collection of winter/holiday one-shots set in the Emelan-verse. Chapter 2, Dreams that we Danced: Sandry had gone above and beyond, the grand hall of the Citadel – mostly unused these past years, since the Duchess's death – glittering with Midwinter cheer and filled with Vedris' nobles.
1. Midwinter Gifts

**A/N **This will be another one-shot collection, now, with all of my winter/holiday themed Emelan stories in one place. Each A/N will have the context of the chapter, and I will post the summary at the beginning of each, to make browsing easier! This first one is actually one of the first stories I wrote and posted, and I am just changing the title and summary so it is the first chapter in this new collection. Thanks for reading!

**Summary: **Set a few months after Briar's Book, Sandry is trying to find the perfect presents for her three friends. Purely holiday fluff.

* * *

Sandry pulled her hood up, protecting her blonde hair from the almost painfully cold rains that were falling. _No way around it_, she thought, trying to look at it optimistically. _It will be raining for months, yet._

She skirted around the puddles forming on the cobbled street, a condition that Rosethorn had forced the girl to agree with in exchange for some time in the city while the still-sharp Dedicate handled the medicines at some of the poorest healing houses. The epidemic had drained everyone's pockets and energy. And, even though it had been almost seven months, with the added winter colds on the weak population there was more work than ever.

Sandry forced her mind away from those thoughts and the memories that came with them. There were other things to think about! Like Midwinter and what she was going to get for Briar, Tris, and Daja.

It would be their second Midwinter together but Sandry felt that it was the most important, in some way. They had become closer than ever, especially over the past few months but still they all claimed not to care about the holiday, and to Sandry who felt it was a time for them to become a family, this hurt. Sandry couldn't understand the others.

_Why am I the only one trying to bring us closer together?_ Sandry wondered, her morose thoughts causing her to lose the forced happy attitude.

Wandering around the stalls in the rain, Sandry discarded most of the gift ideas she saw, even though they would have been suitable for her friends. A new book on weather for Tris, some plants for Briar, a piece of metal for Daja. All of it seemed so...shallow. There was more to her friends than their magic, she knew. All she had to do was remember them.

Sandry moved between two stalls, where she could stop, out of the way of the market crowd, and think. Rain ran off her hood and soaked into the hem of her skirt as she thought of the girl she had known first. A Trader; quiet, down-to-earth and intense. The smell of ash and soot and metal- _But no_, Sandry reminded herself,_ I am going _under_ the magic_- Visits with Polyam, when the Tenth Caravan Idaram had found its way south this past fall. A tenderly kept-up altar in her room at Discipline. Ten years with seafaring people. What had Daja mentioned, when they were up on the outer walls?

After rushing down to the water-side shops, and soaking her shoes in the process, Sandry stood in the salt air and thought of Tris. Stubborn, solitary, kind-on-the-side Tris. Sandry knew that she would like any book bought for her, but Sandry wanted something different. Something that showed she cared. She thought of the clean house, Tris did the best work, out of the four of them. Sandry thought about the tender looks Tris gave to animals, which everyone pretended not to notice, so the fierce redhead wouldn't get embarrassed. Sandry grinned. She knew just what to get Tris!

Standing outside a small shop, hugging her two purchases to her chest, to protect them from the rain, Sandry thought of the last of her friends. The only boy of their group, and the wildest, Briar was often impatient with the 'skirts'. He spent most of his time in the gardens or Rosethorn's work- _Sandry!_ She scolded herself, _Concentrate!-_ She thought of the boy, not the plant-magic. Street-quick, cunning and mischievous, Briar needed no help getting into trouble. But he did need help, and even though it was Tris dealing with it, Sandry thought her Midwinter gift might be a perfect excuse to offer her support.

"Lark is going to kill me when I bring you back like that," Rosethorn muttered, as she loaded the girl into the cart. Sandry was in such a good mood after her purchases that not even Rosethorn's sharp disapproval over the disheveled and soaked state she was in could cut through her enthusiasm.

Rain pattered against the ground outside as Midwinter came to an end. The midnight bells, calling the temple folk to prayer, echoed through the temple, dimmed by the fog that had risen with the rains. Sandry snuggled further down under her blanket, thinking of the cold weather just outside the walls. She rolled over to look at the desk, lit by the glow of her night-light stone that sat with her own Midwinter presents.

Even though they had spent the weeks leading up to the holiday complaining, it was clear to Sandry that the three had put as much thought into her gifts as she had put into theirs.

Daja had handed her a beginner's practice staff, and a promise to teach the noble how to wield it as soon as they could get outside. "It's about time you learned how to do more than lob mud," The Trader had informed the delighted noble.

Tris had given Sandry a beautiful little woodcarving of a deer leaning down, as if for a drink. Tris had simply explained that the rooms all needed some decoration, but Sandry had realized it was the redhead's way of repaying her for the bird wall-hanging that still took up the formerly blank space in Tris's room. It was the only way she could have said 'thank you'.

Briar had given Sandry a spindle of thread in front of the adults, but in private he had snuck her a lock-picking kit. He had noted her fascination with his skills months ago, and, to Briar, it made perfect sense that everyone should know how to pick locks. _He had enough brains to realize that Niko, Lark and Rosethorn did not share that view on life, of course_, Sandry thought, amused.

Sandry thought about her own purchases, trying to judge if they were as well suited. Daja's carving of a ship, its sails unfurled. A lasting addition to her family's shrine, in the Trader tradition of remembrance on Midwinter. Tris's tough leather gloves and a small birdcage, necessary since Tris had brought home yet another stray baby bird, this time a crow. For Briar, there had been two simple books and a writing kit, which he could use on his own now, after all Tris's lessons.

Sandry smiled sleepily, knowing that her choices had been the right ones. She shouldn't have been surprised that they had put the same amount of thought into their gifts for her.

After all, they were family.

_Briar will be so mad, when I start calling him 'brother'. _The thought made the noble smiled as she drifted off to sleep.


	2. Dreams that we Danced

**A/N **This one was written for the Goldenlake Advent Challenge, for the prompt 'festivities'. It is set a bit after _Magic Steps_, as Vedris mentions in that book that Sandry would perhaps like to help host a winter social season and we never get to see that happen. A warning: the notes I made for this fic were, in their entirety: '-their first, very public, dance', and then: 'Sandry ships them SO HARD'. ... :D

**Summary:** Sandry had gone above and beyond, the grand hall of the Citadel – mostly unused these past years, since the Duchess's death – glittering with Midwinter cheer and filled with Vedris' nobles.

* * *

Sandry had gone above and beyond, ensuring the grand hall of the Citadel – mostly unused these past years, since the Duchess's death – glittered with Midwinter cheer and was filled with Vedris' nobles. He had not forgotten how much work a winter social season could be, nor how the press of people (many of them close to useless or grasping or just _unwelcome_) could try.

But he _had_ forgotten what the hall looked like at its best; his niece had, of course, accepted nothing less. Vedris didn't know if it was the help of her magic, or just the affect her charm and enthusiasm had on his staff – all of whom were at the least half-besotted, and many of them completely lost to her by now – that had made the Citadel glow with cheer and good fortune, but the affect it had on the crowd gathered was easily noticed in their smiles and easy flow onto the dance floor. He stood with a few of his old friends, surrounded by conversations of old memories and battles long-since won, a drink in his hand and Vedris smiled freely, looking around at the beauty of the room, truly content in the festivities of the evening.

His gaze was caught as two ladies entered the room, on the far side of the dance floor. Excusing himself from his circle of friends, Vedris crossed the room, leaving a drink with a servant on his way towards them.

Sandry smiled as she saw him approached, curtsying quickly as she stepped to greet him.

"Uncle! What do you think? It looks better than I hoped!" Sandry said.

"You did very well," he praised her, and she beamed. He looked to the woman at her side, resplendent in purple silk and light gold. Yazmin looked beautiful with her hair sticking to her face after working her students all day, but in this room, in her finery and surrounded by the glory of the evening, she was exquisite. Something of his thoughts most have shown on his face, because a blush touched her cheeks and her smile grew.

The music changed, and Vedris gestured towards the floor. "Join me?"

"Yes!" Sandry said, grinning. "You should dance."

Yazmin smiled at his niece, and took his hand easily, but as they walked across the room, Vedris realized this was the first time he was publically acknowledging his relationship with the dancer. It was the first time he would dance with anyone since his wife's death. It was the first time she would conduct an affair in such social circles – she had _always_ before been discreet to the point of secrecy – and he looked to her as the floor cleared for them to begin, wondering if he had overstepped.

"I've had dreams that we danced," she said, putting her hands on his arms and smiling up at him. His concerns faded away as the steps began.

"You are the most beautiful thing I see in this room."

"Sandry may have something to say about the slight to her decorating," Yazmin replied, mock-serious.

Vedris laughed and shook his head. "I doubt it. She seems very happy with this turn of events."

Yazmin laid her head on his chest. "As am I."

Vedris lead her in a slow turn. "As am I," he agreed.


End file.
